Unwanted
by PinkRose3101
Summary: Unwanted figures on both sides of the battlefield survived to 2012 ordeal. The secret war continues but as the battle turns digital, how would one fight them then? Only a few can help but can they be trusted? **The OC Andrea is my own. Rated T but might change later...**
1. Alive

What if a certain Assassin survived 2012?

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><p><em>22 December 2012<em>

The day was like any other. People around the world went about getting ready for their holidays as the rumours settled about the sun flare that hit the day before. Jokes still spread like wildfire but it left scientists baffled. They just could not understand how the planet could have survived that predicted anomaly. Even so, people were happy but unbeknownst to them all, the figure that saved them came stumbling out of a temple…

"Argh!" Pained screams echoed through the ER. Nurses worked hastily over their patient.

"What happened here?" The ER doctor rested her stethoscope around her neck as she pushed through the crowd.

"He was found next to the road flagging down help. A trucker picked him up and brought him straight here. We gave him morphine for his right arm but it doesn't seem to take effect," the nurse rambled all the info she knew.

"His arm?" The doctor questioned. The nurse on the right side of the bed lifted the gauss. "What THE HELL! That is fourth degree burns! Get him prepped and OR 2 ready stat!"

"Right away doctor," a tall male nurse turned on his heel and sped down the hallway.

The female doctor looked to the other approaching doctors, "Hopefully there is still time to save his arm." The doctors pushed the man's bed towards the operating room as the nurses stayed behind.

"Fourth degree burns? That man is lucky to be alive," a dark haired female nurse commented.

"Yeah, but what could have caused it?" A blonde male intern asked as he stared at the disappearing bed.

"Maybe it was the supposed sun flare that never happened yesterday!" The female nurse joked.

"Hey! That is no laughing matter! That can still happen," the intern stomped away.

The nurse turned around, only to find her colleagues shaking their heads at her. "What?" She shrugged innocently.

* * *

><p><em>13 months later...<em>

"I can't believe it's been over a year already. Our John Doe here seems to just get sexier each day but... He just doesn't wake up," a dark haired nurse sighed as she inspects her patient's vitals and what's left of his right hand. His conditions haven't changed at all since he came out of surgery the first time. Mr Doe slipped into a coma and since then, he has been in and out of surgery several times to fix his arm. But when they got in deeper, they found his arm to have fifth degree burns. The bones in his right hand were badly charred, almost fused with each other. There was nothing they could do besides removing dead tissue and hope for the best.

"Oh? You think he's sexy, Jane?" A blonde nurse smirked as she hung a new IV.

"Shut up, Shana," the nurse known as Jane giggled and blushed lightly. "We all know he has... talent," She lifted the sheets to emphasise her point.

Shana laughed, "Yeah, you would say that."

Tucking back the sheets neatly, Jane turned to the foot of the bed. Taking up the chart to report her check ups.

31 January 2014

_Patient displays no signs of waking. Vitals stable. All outputs normal. New IV..._

She continued to write as the door opened to the coma ward. Shana quickly made her way over as she greeted the man. The man looked about mid 50's and tired but had a warm smile. Short greying hair framed his face in a neatly trimmed beard. Shana led him to the same bed of their burnt patient.

"Jane. This man believes he's related to our patient here," Shana's smile encouraged Jane.

"Sir," she shook his hand politely. "Do you know this man? We haven't been able to identify him." Jane led him to stand next to the bed. This is the first time since her patient showed that he had any sort of visit. It made her hopeful.

The man nodded, "Yeah... His name is Desmond. Desmond... Jones," The man lied, as he looked towards the nurses. A sad sigh escaped his lips. The man knew the consequences if the patient's real name ever got out. He has come too far, has tread so carefully to get this burnt man.

"Desmond Jones," Jane repeated as she scribbled the patient's name on the chart.

"I'm sorry. C-can I have a moment alone with him?" The man asked.

"Certainly. But can I have your name, sir?" Jane asked as Shana checked the monitors one last time.

"William Miles," the man smiled again softly. Satisfied, the women nodded and left to check on their other patients. William pulled a chair closer and sat down hard. He breathed a tired sigh , "Oh Desmond... If only I could come sooner."

The two nurses worked silently for a few minutes three beds away, "Who do you think is he?"

Jane glanced at the pair and shrugged a shoulder, "Not sure. Uncle maybe?"

"Maybe," Shana watched the pair as she continued to work.

"Desmond..." William sat forward and spoke softer. "I went through hell and back to get here. And I know I'm being an idiot putting you at risk like this. If Abstergo finds out that you're still alive, then it's surely my fault," his hand ran over his exhausted features. He sat forward, "Son, if you can hear me, we are waiting for you. Your mother, especially. She won't be able to stand your passing a third time," a long silence floated in the air as he studied his son's face. "Please... Wake up," William rested a hand on his son's shoulder. Desmond's left hand twitched and the monitors started beeping loudly. The two nurses raced over to the two men.

"What happened?" Shana asked Mr Miles.

"I am not sure," William stood and stepped back. Jane just stood there, staring in awe.

"What's wrong?" Shana asked Jane while she tried to interpret the monitors.

"Nothing but," Jane's smile started to widen, "His hand is moving!" She exclaimed happily.

"What?!" William and Shana both shocked when they noticed his twitching hand. Shana glanced at the monitors once more, "Could he finally..." She trailed off as she studied the patient's face.

"I'll go get the doctor," Jane said and sped off to find the doctor responsible for Mr Doe, or Jones rather. A few minutes went by when the nurse returned, doctor in tow.

"What's the development?" The doctor took up the charts. Shana retold the happenings, "...then nothing."

Jane stared at his once again non-moving hand. Just that little movement gave her hope but was extinguished far too soon. Disappointment smeared all over Jane's face.

Shana knew she wanted to see those gorgeous brown eyes open on their own. She leaned in when Mr Miles cleared his throat, causing her to step back involuntarily.

"Doctor... May I have a word in private?" Mr Miles hesitated a few times.

"Of course," the doctor walked them aside as the nurses readjusted Mr Jones bedding.

"Nothing us true," William started when they were a few feet away from the nurses.

The doctor stopped dead in his tracks, "Everything is permitted." The doctor finished. The older man chuckled as the doctor turned with a quizzical grin. "How did you know?"

"Ones in our position, tends to _see_ small details," William tapped the doctor's shoulder. A faint outline of a strangely bent 'A' like tattoo shone through his short-sleeved, light blue scrubs.

"So true. But I'm sure you didn't come here to chat," The doctor repositioned his sleeves.

"Actually I did. Doctor...?" William asked.

"Andrea," the doctor introduced himself, hand over the heart.

"Andrea Trovato. I knew you looked familiar," William nodded. "Rome 2010, right?"

"Si. It's not really a memory I would like to revisit again," Dr Andrea's eyes lowered as his Italian accent came through more recognizably.

"Many were lost and I am sorry th-"

"As am I," Andrea cut him off. His face stoic and his voice emotionless. "Now, you wanted to talk?"

"Yes. You know our people have been experimenting with Carbon Fiber?" William crossed his arms casually, not phased by the sudden change of attitude. Andrea nodded curiously as the conversation continued.

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><p>"Desmond? Can you hear me?" An elegant female voice surrounded him in the void. The void that seemed all to familiar...<p>

"Y-yeah. I can," Desmond replied as he looked around. This place was familiar. It felt the similar to the time he revisited all his memories in the animus. Floating in emptiness, having a body without a body.

"Good," the woman's voice echoed around him. "We have little time to prepare you before we send you back."

"Send me back? Am I not dead?" Desmond questioned as he searched for the source of the voice.

"No, not dead. Thanks to Tinia, you have survived," the female's voice sounded like she was smiling proudly, yet sad.

"Tinia? Are you taking about Jupiter? Who are you?" Desmond used his eagle vision but still found no source to the voice. "Juno?" There was a long silence. Desmond grew restless as it continued, "Hallo?"

"Don't. You. Dare! Call me by her name," the female's voice replied coldly, almost growling with anger.

"Minerva?" Desmond tried to guess again.

"You really don't know, do you?" She appeared next to him. Fragments of her form seemed to be missing. Glitching out every so often.

"Know what?" Desmond's level of frustration rose. "Can you please just get to the point? I am sick and tired of this! If I'm the one that has to do your dirty work again, please... Enlighten me oh powerful ones," he snapped sarcastically at her.

"Very well," Minerva narrowed her eyes dangerously but circled him and sighed. "Juno, has escaped..."

"What?! How did she escape?" Desmond cried out in disbelief.

"Through you," Minerva's eyes glared daggers again. "I warned you this would happen. I warned you! About HER!" Her voice glitched out as the volume rose.

"What did you want me to do, huh? Just let billions of people die because you warned me of one being?" Desmond tried to retaliate.

"Your fate will be far more severe than having to dodge a mere sun flare. Unless y-"

"Unless WHAT? All I wanted was to save Earth!" Desmond interjected.

"So do we but you have NO idea what you have done by doing so," her eyes focused on his when she came to a stop on his left. "You must fix this. You have to end her for good this time and to do so, you have one destination," she sounded almost remorseful, yet her face contorted with anger.

"Oh yeah? And where would that be?" Desmond scoffed. He felt this was going to be a long struggle yet again.

"A place locally known as Chicago," Minerva sounded a bit more confident. "You will find her there for certain."

"Chicago? Why ther-"

"We will contact you again when the time comes. For now, you are ready. Time for you to wake," Minerva raised a hand to silence him. Her fragmented form disappeared into the void as the emptiness around Desmond seemed to disappear.

"Ready for what? Hey! You didn't tell me where in Chicago I should start!" Desmond gasped for air as beeping noises grew louder and more frequent.

"Search for the one the city calls, The Fox..." Minerva's voice faded.

"Minerva!"

"-mond. Son?" A familiar male voice broke through the groggy haze.

"He's regaining consciousness," another male voice boomed with an Italian accent.

"D-dad?" Desmond's voice hitched in his parched throat.

"Son?" William repeated as he leaned closer. Groggy eyes of his son focused on him. "It worked Andrea! It worked!"

"We shall see, Will. We still have ways to go," Andrea tapped a neat bionic right hand on his patient. The hand blended perfectly with the rest of the patient's arm.

"I know, but at least it's a start," William smiled as the age melted away on his face upon seeing his son's open eyes once more.

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><p>Please review. It really keeps me going~<p> 


	2. Favour

Hey hey! PinkRose3101 here~

I have to say that even though this story has got little to no attention, I would still like to thank the people that have _faved_ and _followed_ and _read_ this story so far. Thanks! You guys are the best. I have another crossover story of Assassin's Creed and Bleach I would like to get back to but I have been having some trouble to finish chapter 5 for so long, over a year now to be exact. But no worries, I will get back to it~

I should probably have said this sooner but this story will have bits of Assassin's Creed story stretching from AC2 to AC Unity and of course, Watch_Dogs will be in the mix there. It will only be the modern bits I found useful so please bear with me…

So as far as spoilers go, you have been warned! Hehe~

Enjoy :)

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><p><em>7 Weeks later...<em>

The clock just ticked over for high noon. Clouds settled above poured a light drizzle to cool the humid, summer air of the previous day's thunder showers across New York City. People moving to and from the local hospital on the city's outskirts were none the wiser of the secret war they are all actually a part of. Abstergo's nefarious plans were already set in motion…

"Alright, Mr Jones. Just one more time," The hospital's Physiotherapist encouraged as she helped Desmond do another lift with his right hand. "That's excellent. We're done for today," the Physiotherapist praised his efforts. Desmond's perspired face stared tiredly at his hand for the umpteenth time. A hand that freakishly looked like his real hand but the soft whirring of mechanics reminded him that it's not. Placing the dumbbell back on the rack, he let his left hand explore the silicon surface. It extended just past his elbow and towards his shoulder. The fingers moved as if it were his real hand, which he still found somewhat creepy. The intricate buzzing of mechanics still bothered him but Doctor Andrea assured him his new hand will be fine. His _new_ hand... A painful reminder of the day he almost died. The day Juno used him...

A short haired blonde man in a lab coat entered the gymnasium as Desmond blinked himself back out of his trance. He had typical sea blue eyes that always complemented a head of such colour. The man was of average height, maybe just a hair or two shorter than Desmond himself. A thin scar on his neck extended to his jaw and right cheek became apparent beyond his high collar when he approached the pair packing their things after working on their strength training. Desmond rose to his feet and greeted, "Doctor Andrea."

"Desmond," Andrea replied. He held a file with a few papers bound within underneath his left arm. "Alright Desmond," he started. It seemed like the man couldn't contain his excitement. "I have good news and bad news."

"Bad news first," Desmond sighed. He was really grateful for everything the man did so far but his regular intervals of giddiness made the doctor somewhat annoying. He got to know the man through his father. According to William, he was one of the groundbreaking researchers of the Italian Brotherhood. The tragedy that followed during an Abstergo raid however, did not end well for them in 2010.

"I need to operate on your arm again. But," Andrea smiled as he opened the file and read a few lines. "The good news is that I will only be inspecting if the mechanics of your prosthetic arm have healed properly into the muscles of your arm. We must also make a few additional adjustments once inside but you won't even feel the difference. So, are you feeling any discomfort while you are using your hand like this?" He motioned towards the gym equipment.

"Uh, no," Desmond shrugged one shoulder as he flexed the bionic wrist. "I still find it somewhat strange though..."

"Strange? How?" Andrea quirked an eyebrow as he placed the file on a nearby table and held out his hand, asking for his.

"This thing feels way too realistic to be a prosthetic," Desmond stepped forward to rest his bionic hand in the blonde man's hands.

"Oh, that's normal. This is state-of-the-art, the latest in bio-powered engineering," Andrea said as an excited glint shone in his eyes. "You are one of the firsts in the country to get this treatment. Hopefully the first of many in your... _position._"

"Woah, slow down Doc. You sound like a sales rep rather than a doctor," a familiar voice chuckled as he strode up behind the good doctor.

"Ah, Mister Miles," Andrea turned his head to acknowledge the new comer.

"Andrea. Has Desmond behaved himself at least?" William smirked as he saw the usual frown settled upon his son's face.

"Why, yes. He has," Andrea finished inspecting the hand once more before he tapped it appreciatively. He let his patient's hand go and turned to his fellow Assassin.

"I brought the item we discussed. It took a little longer than expected," William let the sack thrown over his shoulder fall from its perch. Desmond leaned to the side to see what it was, only noticing when it fell. William slipped a wrapped package from the bag and handed it to the eager hands of the blonde doctor.

"Good. That means we can do the procedure today," Andrea said happily as he turned his gaze to Desmond. He caressed the package gently, as if it could break at any moment. It was a peculiar box, almost a half meter long and a few centimetres wide. "If all goes well, then you can be released in the next few days. That's if think you are ready, Desmond."

"That's great," his patient mumbled. Desmond was not really eager to do the First Civ's dirty work a second time but then again... He did have a hefty score to settle with one of them. As long as both Minerva and Jupiter's interests stay aligned with his own, mutual understandings could be reached. "You know... I was wondering about something," Desmond looked down as he flexed his bionic fingers. His tone changing.

"Yes?" Andrea spoke first, curious looks on the other two's faces.

"How effective will this hand be in climbing?" Desmond kept flexing different joints on his new hand, not noticing a pleased smirk tugging at his father's lips.

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><p><em>The Loop, Chicago<em>

The sun just set, painting the gathered clouds an assortment of pink of orange. The clouds grew darker as thunder rolled over the city. Citizens readied their umbrellas as they rushed for cover when the rain started to fall. A brunette man slipped into a midnight blue sedan and parked in a dark alleyway.

"Attention all units, reports of multiple gunshots south of the Loop district has been confirmed. All units in immediate areas are to investigate with caution. Suspect might still be large in the area," the female dispatcher blared over the police scanner.

"Ah shit," a man with a dark brown trench coat, slid further down the driver's seat of the sedan he just stole. He adjusted his cap firmly over his head as the rain thundered against the roof of the vehicle despite the tall buildings surrounding him. All he did was save a woman from a potential mugger but the mugger had a gun… 'Why does this always have to turn on me?' he wondered as he opened the map on his cell, the police were close. If only he could get out of range of their scanners.

"Wait. I think I found something!" A voice boomed behind the car followed by torch light that reflected in the rear view mirror. The engine roared the life as the police officer took another step closer. "Freeze!" He shouted towards the sedan and shot.

"Damn it!" The driver shielded his face as debris of the back window shattered the silence. Squealing tires flew around a curb as the man sped off.

"Attention all units. Suspect is driving a blue sedan. Back window is shot out," the dispatcher announced a few seconds later.

Sirens echoed through the night air as various buildings were showered with blue and red as the sedan raced by, dodging in and out between traffic. The distance continued to increase between the police and their suspect. "Squad, this one might get away from us. We need eyes in the sky now!" An officer ordered.

"Helicopter is on route. Stand by," the dispatcher confirmed.

"Can this night just get any better?" Sarcasm dripped from the sedan's driver as he heard the order over his police scanner app and pushed the motor closer to its limits, almost flying towards the highway. His eyes trained on his phone as he flipped through various screens. The beating of rotor blades got louder as the rain let up ever so slightly. The driver chanced a glance at the approaching aircraft, pointing his mobile towards it. Sparks and flames exploded from the aircraft's tail as it spun out of control before his thumb even got near his device.

"Mayday! Mayday! Bird's going dow-" The scanner suddenly cut off as traffic almost immediately came to a screeching halt. All the while the sedan safely spun around the bend and onto the highway. Continuing on as his chasers stopped to assist in the crash.

The phone buzzed with an unknown caller id, "Yeah?"

"So, did you like the fireworks?" The male voice on the other end almost sounded smug.

"Jordi? Since when do you interfere with _my_ police business?" The man suppressed the urge to laugh as a dark smirk settled on his face instead.

"Ah, only when I'm bored. Anyway, I have a favour to ask," Jordi sighed as the exasperated sound of boredom set in again.

"Of course you do," the man checked his rear view mirror. Fire and smoke filled the distant horizon behind him as he continued forward. He knew Jordi rarely does anything out of his own except when he needs something return…

"Humour me on this one," the voice whined.

The phone was silent a few seconds, "Fine. What do you want, Jordi?"

"Excellent! I just sent you the details in a text but for now… What do you know about Abstergo Industries?" Jordi asked curiously.

"Not much except it's some kind of Pharmaceutical Company. It's one of the biggest suppliers to all the smaller pharmacies in the city," the sedan swerved to the right and off the highway entering Parker Square.

"Great! Then I think you will like this one, Aiden," the phone line went dead as the driver opened his messages.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me…" Aiden finished reading the text. Green eyes glared daggers at the screen before tossing it aside into the passenger seat. "Who the hell is Desmond Miles?" The driver rested his head on his knuckles as the sedan disappeared into the dark, pouring rain.

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><p>Time for the procedure drew near. Andrea said he will be doing it while he was awake. The good doctor didn't go into depth with all the details but for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Desmond was actually nervous. He hasn't even felt this nervous since he had to jump from that building in centre Manhattan. He could have sworn that exact same building gave a glint in the distance as he watched the city in the setting sun.<p>

"Alright Desmond. You ready?" Andrea entered his room with a wheelchair. Desmond nodded and sat down without another word. The hospital rarely let any patient walk on their own even when they are capable, so he easily complied. Dr Andrea wheeled him to a small sterile room; windowless with a weirdly shaped table in the centre.

"What are you going to do?" Desmond asked as he felt a little more nervous while staring at his bionic hand. The doctor put on the brakes of his wheelchair and readjusted the height of the table now positioned in front of Desmond.

"All in good time, _Mr Jones_," the doctor lingered on his false name with a smile as he lifted his patient's prosthesis. He clamped the arm and wrist into place on the weird table to hold it steady, palm up. "Oh yes. The most important part," Andrea turned and reached for a smaller table. It held the peculiar box from earlier, yet to be opened.

Desmond tried to crane his neck to get a better look of the box but could not move further as his arm was still held in place. "What is that?" Desmond felt nervous as Andrea started to move over his arm, blocking the object from view. "This is not going to hurt, is it?"

"Relax, Desmond. Andrea told me it won't," William entered the small room unnoticeably. "As for what that is, see it as a surprise," he pointed to the box and smiled warmly, clearly seeing the nerves shaking Desmond. He squeezed his son's shoulder lightly for a bit of support for what's coming next.

Andrea's quick fingers worked over swiftly and the cover was removed in mere minutes. Desmond could almost not believe his eyes. Most of his arm still remained!

Steel and electrical wiring of the bionic hand entered his flesh up to five times every inch, held in place with titanium screws. Here and there he could see deep into his arm as a long titanium tube embedded within held the wrist of his new hand into place. But what captured his attention the most, the tube was hallow.

"Alight Desmond, here we go," Andrea unwrapped the long box and broke the seal. Revealing a long piece of black… Plastic? "This," the doctor lifted the object from the box carefully and clicked it into place within the titanium tube. It collapsed easily to almost a third of its size! "Is your new hidden blade," he concluded as he tightly wound the screw to hold the end securely in place. "The Black Eagle."

"W-what?" Desmond's eyes grew wide as the doctor placed back the covers. He looked towards his old man as a satisfied smirk settled on his features. His unease quickly turned to excitement as William stood next to the grinning doctor, obviously pleased with Desmond's reaction.

"You heard right, Desmond," William tugged at his collar to its proper place. "This is the best in what carbon fibre can offer. Durable and undetectable."

"The Black Eagle? Who named it that?" Desmond stared at his arm as the clamp released him from its hold.

"I did. Seeing that it was originally my designs that led to its origin," Andrea straightened as he explained. "Now that all that is dealt with," Andrea placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head formally towards Desmond, "As the newly appointed Master of the Italian Assassins, I welcome you Brother Miles."

Desmond mimicked his movement, hand over the heart and bowed his head. It just felt natural as Ezio's ancient voice rang clear through his thoughts, "Thank you for everything, Brother."

William watched the scene as his own memories flashed through his head. Oh, how he missed to hold the young boy in his arms again that now stood as a man before him.

Now a full-fledged Assassin…

* * *

><p>AN: The version of his burnt arm I had in mind was a lot more graphic but I _really_ didn't want to give myself nightmares... Please review~


	3. Emails

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these Ubisoft works but heaven knows I want to X3

P.s. I have done some heavy updates on the previous chapters for those who have followed earlier than this upload. Hopefully I bridged some gaps I felt that needed filling. Enjoy~

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><p>Giggles filled the backseat as the young afternoon sun shone warmly. A black SUV cruised along the country road.<p>

"So where do you want to go? We can drive anywhere," A brunette man laughed at the sight in the rear view mirror. Two small faces, smiling as their hair blew gently from the open windows. The stuffed lamb bouncing around on the lap of the tiny girl. The boy admired her innocent face as he watched her play.

"Drive where?" The girl leaned forward from her seat. Her curious features easily reflected that of her mother's.

"Anywhere," the man repeated, watching her with amazed interest.

"I don't want to go anywhere. I want to go to Pawnee!" The girl's face brightened at the question.

"Okay. You're the boss. We'll go to Pawnee," the man chuckled. Pleased at the direction they'll take.

"Thank you, uncle Aiden!" The children cheered together. A day on Pawnee's waters with their uncle always turned out better than any holiday at the beach.

The SUV switched lanes to bypass a truck as they entered an underground tunnel. The girl hung out her window to wave at the truck driver as he hooted in reply, making the girl laugh. Motorbikes raced by the car as they passed the truck. The boy was mesmerised at their shapes and the sounds of the engines. A biker on their left sped to the front of the car. His helmetless face bore hints of disgust when a gun appeared. It was just too late...

The tire blew out as the car swerved to the left, hitting the curb and catapulted through the air. It rolled several times until it hit the other side of the tunnel. Aiden was dazed and still in his seat but he heard nothing. The silence was unbearable. He regretted opening his eyes in an instant. The sight of his niece's stuffed lamb only a few feet away on the tarmac... His vision blurred as he saw the red taillights of the bikes vanish into the distance.

Aiden woke with a start, "Why?" He sat up wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Why always the same nightmare?"

Knocking echoed through the motel room. The last of the sun's rays filtered through the door as the silhouette moved on the other side.

"Yeah?" The man called from the bed as he flung his legs over the edge and yawned.

"Is that how you greet your friends, Aiden?" A familiar male voice answered.

Aiden sighed as he slipped on his cap from the bedside table, not bothering to put on his shoes or coat. Trudging to the door he opened it with a scowl, "What do you want Jordi?"

"Well hallo to you, too," the Asian man scoffed and let himself in as the door closed behind him a little too forceful. He turned several times to look around the small room, not really impressed by what he saw. But a small yellow post-it with a huge question mark on the far wall, did in fact peak his interest. It was connected to several red strings that led to different photos of people and places. He reached to touch the yellow paper when Aiden cleared his throat.

"What are you doing here?" Aiden asked with a frustrated but tired voice.

"How is that little favour of mine coming along?" Jordi questioned as he continued to inspect the different pictures.

"Are you serious? Abstergo is biggest pharmaceutical company in the world, and you expect me to believe they would hire a fixer in Chicago to find a man named Desmond Miles?" Aiden's voice changed to anger.

Jordi faced the man as he smirked darkly and nodded, "Yeah."

"I don't believe this," Aiden shook his head. "How do I know you are serious about this?"

"Oh sure I am," Jordi waved a hand to dismiss the obvious statement, casually moving around the table situated in the centre of the room. He sat down in the chair and put his feet up while watching the other's face. "So, did you find anything?"

Aiden sighed and dug for his phone in his pant pocket, "Yeah. He was last seen in Brazil but that was in December 2012. It's either that this Desmond guy is hiding his movements really well or he's dead," Aiden faced the phone's screen towards the sitting man. A video clip of the wanted man in Brazil jumping on a train looped again and again.

"Well, I have it that he is coming to Chicago, soon," Jordi shrugged a shoulder as he picked at something on the chair's armrest.

"How do you know?" Aiden dropped his cell into his pocket and crossed his arms.

"I happen to have sources everywhere, Aiden. A very reliable source in Montréal believes Desmond will make an appearance here. And I want _you_, to find him for me," dark eyes focused on green ones.

"You want me, to find him for you?" Aiden started to pace. "This is starting to go far beyond a mere favour, Jordi."

"Nah, I had to try," Jordi kicked his feet off the table and stood. "But what you gave me, I already knew. You disappoint me, Aiden." The Asian man strode to the door. "Keep searching, though. I bet there are all kinds of nasty secrets that would be to your liking," he left leaving the door wide open.

"Ass," Aiden stomped to the door and slammed it shut. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed again. Aiden glanced toward his computer on the table in the middle of the room when a smirk crawled onto his features. Montréal repeated several times in his head so he knew he was on the right track with his previous searches.

The monitors flickered to life when the man sat at his desk. Entering his pass code, several windowed files popped into view. He filtered his search to Montreal when an email notification beeped in his pocket. He ignored it and went on with his search.

"Ah, this must be it," the man sifted through information of a certain branch; Abstergo Entertainment. With a few lines of code and some odd security measures, he managed to get inside their systems with relative ease. Countless Exabytes of conjoined data was transmitted over the servers of both Abstergo Entertainment and their parent, Abstergo Industries. One thing the green eyed hacker found in common was a long line of research subjects. The subjects varied from male to female of different ages, dating back to as early as the 1960's. Recordings and research of genetic memories gathered from each subject was somewhat unrelated but never fully mentioned in any of the data. Except for the last entry...

_Subject 17: Desmond Miles._

A satisfied grin spread the features of the hacker when files upon files exploded onto the screen. It explained everything, from the methods used to gain full access of the subject's DNA, until his escape. Few related files branched off but one file in particular caught his attention.

_The First Civilization._

Another buzz in his pocket went off when he checked the time, 10:39 PM. "Wow... Time certainly flies," Aiden saved what he found important and left the servers without a trace. Shutting off his computer, he decided to get some more sleep, hoping silently for a dreamless night. He just started to drift off when yet another notification lit up his pocket in the dark room. He groaned through his tired state while dragging his phone from its confinement. Three emails, the first two were completely baffling. It was nothing but symbols and numbers and the sender was an unknown binary code. The message did not follow any sort of code or pattern known to him but here and there a word or two was readable across both emails.

Distance- is a problem- but it will be- _CONQUERED_

"What the fuck?" Aiden sat up as he opened and read the third, all drowsiness vanishing into thin air.

Sent: March 23, 2014; 11:12 PM  
>To: The Vigilante<br>From: 01001010010101010100111001001111

Hallo Aiden Pearce

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><p>Midnight settled over New York, lighting the starry sky with a soft yellow tinge from the distant city. Relative silence and sleep blanketed the hospital except for two figures out on the roof. A sort of open air chapel surrounded with pillars and beams of various heights, decorated the flat roof among an assortment of plants and flowers. A giant cross stood almost twelve feet tall behind the pulpit, casts it shadow over the stone pews in the moonlight. The only symbol keeping watch over the training of two Assassins...<p>

Desmond ran across a beam, leaping effortlessly from his previous perch. Drawing back his right elbow he flicked his bionic wrist as the black blade shot out soundlessly and buried it deep into the neck of a foam mannequin standing within the pews. The two bodies flopped to the ground as he stood and shook back the blade into place. "How was that?" Desmond watched the cover shift back into place where the blade disappeared.

"Very good, if I do say so myself. Again!" Andrea nodded as he watched his patient, now his student, do more assassination techniques. It's been a while, years in fact, since he last saw such stunts. Silenced guns and untraceable bullets were the order of the day, so few assassins made use of the old traditions. Still everyone was forced to train in these techniques, in case previous methods fail. Desmond however moved like he has done it for years and years on end. Trusting his body to leap from one object to the next, in no time at all. "Who trained you, Desmond?" Andrea was curious. He never once dared to ask about this life to both his patient, or his father.

"My dad at first," Desmond ran up a slanted beam, jumping onto the cross in front of the chapel and held onto the middle. "Then Altaïr, Ezio and Connor or Rahtonhnhaké:ton, as he actually preferred."

"So all the stories of the bleeding effect is true?" Andrea was shocked to hear of his own ancestor, Ezio Auditore being mentioned. He remained silent about it as he waited for an answer.

"Yes, it's all true but luckily I can't complain," Desmond fell back, catching the beam he stood on at the last moment. "It taught me almost everything those Assassins knew about different techniques and free running. Rebecca, one of the techies we had on our team, worked on stopping it. She did one hell of a job," Desmond chuckled as he continued to hang.

Andrea watched Desmond's arm carefully. "Are you feeling any pain while hanging like that?" He motioned to Desmond's right arm.

"No, nothing" Desmond shook his head and let go of the beam, landing in a roll to break his fall.

"That is excellent news. I believe you are in perfect health," Andrea felt around the inner pockets of his jacket before pulling out a roll of folded paper. "So I think these are in order," he held it out to Desmond.

Desmond took the papers and read it, "Discharge papers?" He opened the roll further, "What's this?" He held out a closed envelope.

"William sent me that. It's a train ticket to Chicago from our good old Penn Station," Andrea smiled. "It departs tomorrow afternoon." The doctor checked his watch as it was almost 1 AM, "Or today rather. He said he will meet you there and maybe even bring your mother."

"What? I- I haven't seen in her in years," Desmond tried to remember her face but none of it really came to the front of his mind.

"The Templars are sneaky bastards. You must be careful when you leave here," Andrea held his eyes with an earnest look.

"I will. I have survived this long, haven't I?" Desmond chuckled.

"Sure you have," Andrea nodded and smiles at the past events as he made his way towards the elevator.

Desmond stayed on his spot and opened the envelope, "Will you be joining us in Chicago?"

Andrea stopped in his stride, "Only if you muck up your arm." The doctor turned with a funny look and low laugh rumbled through his chest, "Please avoid that at all costs."

"I will try my best," Desmond fisted his right hand repeatedly.

"Good. In the mean time, I am returning to Italy. Rightful place as Master and all that," he scratched the back of neck and sighed. "At this point, I can only say one thing," he placed his right fist over his heart as kept his patient's gaze, "Good luck, Assassin."

"Thank you," Desmond smiled as he mirrored the Italian Assassin's motion.

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><p>This was more of a filler than what I have in store still<p>

Please Review~


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